


Stiles Owns a Coffee Shop and Peter Wears a Tux

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Lydia and Laura, Everyone Is Alive, Fluffy, I found this in my WIP and it was pretty much done, M/M, Peter wears a tux, Stiles is a fox, Stiles owns a coffee shop, i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: When you capitalize the description it looks like a title?Just what's on the shelf, champ.Stiles owns a coffee shop and one night he's working late and who pounds on the door, but a hot guy in a tux who looks frazzled and has a story to tell about his weird family.





	Stiles Owns a Coffee Shop and Peter Wears a Tux

 

Stiles enjoys the early hours of the morning. Yes, his sleep schedule is for shit and he’ll probably never have a permanent partner because he never sees anyone outside of his shop, but he loves it.

This is not what he expected, but combining his love of coffee, baking and doing whatever the fuck he wants, the little café at the end of First Street is perfect for him.

And now it’s close to midnight and he’s got a few things to finish up, maybe another two hours before he locks up. Then early in the morning (the real morning) Erica comes in to get the baking started. By that time, everything should be on the pans, risen and ready to go in the ovens according to schedule.

Then a few hours later, he’ll come back in.

He’s exhausted most of the time and in debt up to his eyeballs, but this was a good decision and this is the best, quietest time of night.

Until he hears a loud moan and thump on the door, enough to get his attention, even over the noise of the KitchenAid.

“Are you open? Please? Just for a coffee?” The person at the door looks a bit disheveled, but even at this hour and with hand-scrambled hair, he’s worth looking at.

Stiles approaches the door and turns over the sign that says “Closed” to be sure it says what he knows it does. “Dude, we are so closed. Do you know what time it is?”

The man sighs with his entire body, slumping against the door jam. “Late? Early maybe? I just need…”

He scrubs his hand through his hair while Stiles looks him up and down. He’s mid-thirties maybe, light brown hair, and the bluest eyes. Plus he’s in a tux. A light gray tux with gray and purple accents. “Did you bail on your wedding or something?”

“No, not mine, but it was a wedding and...”

Stiles unlocks the door, leaving the chain on. It won’t prevent someone from breaking in, but he likes the way it looks. “Is it a good story? And what’s your name?”

“Peter, I’m Peter. And good is a relative term. Very much so, actually. My relatives are insane.”

Stiles isn’t usually impulsive, but why not just this once. The guy looks like he needs a break and he looks good and smells awesome. It’s not like he’s going anywhere for a couple of hours anyway. “Okay, come on in, at least I have coffee.” He shuts the door to undo the chain, and opens the door, letting Peter in. “I’m Stiles, nice to meetcha, and I get the story as payment, agreed?”

Sighing, Peter slumps into a chair by the front counter and says, “Thank you, Stiles. I greatly appreciate this. We were supposed to have a lovely wedding reception dinner, but since there was no wedding, no dinner.”

“Damn, and no cake I guess.” He goes behind the counter, turning the smallest of the coffee makers on, one they use for staff. “So what am I getting you? You look like a black coffee kinda guy.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’m actually a latte kinda guy.”

“Sure, I am, too. How many shots? Do you want it plain or pumpkin or peppermint?”

“Vanilla syrup if it’s no problem? Two sugars, please. And again, thank you, Stiles.” He looks around the shop and asks, “Are you the manager here? You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

“I’m the owner, so I do what I want.” He puts Peter’s coffee on the table, along with sugar and a shaker of cinnamon. “I’ll be over here and you start the story of your day, okay?”

“Oh, bless you, child.” Peter takes the offered mug, taking a moment to shut his eyes and inhale the steam before he sips it. “Delicious. Hmm, it looks like I might need to come here more often. Anyway, the story of why I’m dressed like this, begging for sustenance during the middle of the night.”

Two plates are set on his table, along with another couple of napkins and Stiles sits in the chair opposite him. “Okay, Peter, eat your panini and tell me about your family and the marriage that didn’t happen.”

“You’re a saint, Stiles.” Peter wipes a bit of sauce from his lips after taking a giant bite. “Delicious, thank you. So… my niece Laura is my sister’s oldest child. Laura was engaged to a… I’m sorry, but he’s a fairly dull young man, let’s call him Steve.”

Stiles just nods and takes a bite of his sandwich, one of his favorites if he does say so himself, nice and spicy.

“I suppose I should say that my family is a little old fashioned in some ways. There was an expectation that this marriage would be good for both of our families; we’re both small families and looking forward to Laura and Steve’s children.”

“And that went to hell,” Stiles interjects, coming back from a quick trip behind the counter to bring over a bag of potato chips. “Here, eat.”

“Enabler,” Peter answers, grinning as he shakes some chips out of the bag. “So, high expectations, short engagement, fancy ceremony and as the vows are being said, Laura starts sobbing and shaking. Everyone’s looking and whispering and finally she announces, ‘I can’t do this, I don’t love him, I’m sorry, I love Lydia!’ and she turns and she and the maid of honor fall into each other’s arms, amid much more wailing.”

“That’s just awesome. Then what?”

“Let’s see. General mayhem. My sister, Talia, crying and ordering people around. Steve’s family yelling and getting into everyone’s face. Laura and Lydia trying to escape while my mother is following them around telling Laura she has to marry Steve, while Steve’s mother is saying it was a horrible idea from the start and our family doesn’t deserve him.” He finishes his sandwich, licking his fingers as Stiles watches. “Yeah, overall it was a great day, really super. Finally got everyone out, with apologies all around and I was able to make my escape.”

“Damn, that’s a really bad day.” Stiles sits back, warm coffee mug held against his chest. “Let me see if I have this. Arranged pack marriage for an alliance or something and one person backs out? Man, that must been ugly, I can picture all the wolves posturing and the growls!”

Peter moves his chair back a little and raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I quite know what you mean, Stiles.”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend!” Stiles grins, mouth full of small, sharp teeth. When he blinks, they disappear and the bright orange eyes fade back to warm brown. “I knew you were a wolf when I opened the front door! It’s the only reason I let you in. My best friend back home was a wolf.”

“You’re in a pack? What are you?” Peter asks, with his eyes flashing.

“No, not now, when we were in high school, my best friend got bitten by an alpha and turned. He’s a wolf, I’m not.” Stiles stands up, leaning over the table towards Peter. He tilts his head, showing a long, white column of throat. “Here, sniff.”

He takes the young man’s chin, turning his face further away and leans forward, dragging his nose up the offered neck.

Stiles shivers, not unpleasantly, and when Peter lets go of his chin he sits back down. “See? No wolf, no pack, just little me.”

“It’s common courtesy to enter a known territory and introduce yourself to the pack’s alpha.”

“Well, I might have if I were a wolf or wanted to be in a pack here. But foxes aren’t pack creatures and we don’t do that crazy omega thing. I go crazy and maybe a squirrel or two get it.” He stands, picking up cups, getting everything in his two hands, evidence of months of practice. “More coffee?”

Peter shrugs, eyes fading back to their normal, bright blue. “Sure, thanks, Stiles. And a fox? Hmm, no not usually pack creatures. Fun to chase though.”

“Asshole.” Stiles uncovers a bowl of dough, punching it down, and quickly mixing in raisins before he covers it again.  “Pretty sure I’ve avoided your pack, at least so far. You guys are in the nature preserve thingy, right?”

“Yes, that thingy. Can I help you with something? Since I’m apparently intruding on your work time.”

“Nah, but thanks, I’m good.” In a minute he hands Peter his coffee and sits back down, pushing out an extra chair to put his feet up. “Can you do the full shift? I read born wolves can when they’re kids, and bitten wolves need to learn it.”

“True, and yes, I’m a born wolf. So do you have a picture of yourself, Stiles?” Peter asks, sipping his drink. “In case I run into you in the woods and want to say hello.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to Peter, with a picture of a smiling fennec fox showing.

“Look at you, you’re adorable!” Peter quickly pulls the phone closer to him and starts thumbing through the album. “Lots of pictures of you, how do you take selfies?”

Stiles has to work to grab the phone from Peter’s hand, shoving it in his pocket. “Give it back, you’re so rude! And my father takes pics and sends them to me.”

“Your eyes don’t flash like ours do.”

“Another way we’re better than you, I guess. Along with the fact that foxes would have hung around the wedding looking for the already catered dinner and the wedding cake. I mean, someone has to eat it, right? Might as well be us.”

“Foxes are known to be tricky, so I’m not surprised at all.” Peter tugs at the bottom of his vest as he stands and runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it down a little. “Are you free to come with me to look for wedding leftovers? Not afraid of wolves or alphas?”

“I think you’ll protect me, won’t you, wolf?” Stiles adjusts Peter’s tie, and smooths his vest, maybe a little more than technically necessary. “Let’s go, we can eat like wild things.”


End file.
